Inflating the balloon of optimism

My balloon of optimism needed a thicker coat to prevent it from over-inflating, bursting and needing to be patched as many times as the umbrera (apology to the Okrika dictionary). I am still trying to determine the basis for the jubilation. The last time I checked, university students have been home for longer than their […]

My balloon of optimism needed a thicker coat to prevent it from over-inflating, bursting and needing to be patched as many times as the umbrera (apology to the Okrika dictionary). I am still trying to determine the basis for the jubilation. The last time I checked, university students have been home for longer than their lecturers cared to count. NEPA, the nemesis of our national underdevelopment, has been splintered, then sold and re-splintered again, but who has heard of six hours of uninterrupted electricity anywhere for two consecutive days except daydreamers?
But for people who are watching Naija roads from Godswill Akpabio’s multi-billion dollar jet, those who daily use them still describe them as death traps. Only Akpabio and his friends from Lalaland sing that the uncommon transformation in Naija is making Obama green with envy. We must call Obama’s bluff on Syria, until the Naija Assembly passes a bill sanctioning mass murder. I know how much people prayed for rains this year and that is not because God was preparing our country for the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah. Almost all of the 70 per cent of rural dwellers take their water from streams. How do they know that at the Evil Square when contractors supplied them for free?
Last week, while our hard-working president was decked in his party’s aso-ebi with the best security that Boko Haram can spare them, the helpless and hapless were forced to make a detour from their normal routes in their quest for the pursuance of their daily bread.
The speeches were interesting; at least neither the Naija-Delta boys nor Boko Haram detonated any explosives in condemnation of the party (every pun intended). Mr President called for harmony, though his speech came too late; some of his loyal party men (no woman for now) had moved the venue. Forgive Bamanga Tukur if he thinks differently. Technically, most of the dissidents have burnt their party cards, having been suspended from ward to state and national levels – for insubordination and sundry offences. The other dissidents shall meet with EFCC and the law courts. Some emirs can expect knocks on their doors when prodigals want to return home.
When it comes to politrics, only the uninitiated take things at face value. Those who know realize that even an implosion could be a decoy. Never trust the oppressor not to play pranks.
I do not share the optimism in the APC as the needed cure-all analgesic for our protracted national headache. There are good people in the opposition, but the controversial island of integrity needs more permanent residents to become an Eldorado.
How come those who have lost integrity find men of like passion in the brand new second hand opposition? At some point, the party even asked the president it is hoping to unseat to join the drove. Beyond catchy rhetoric, this analgesic needs to market its ingredients. There is need for the Leninist form of ‘party work in the masses.’
The masses are disillusioned and disillusionment is the fuel of the opposition for a revolution. In Egypt they had a dose of disillusionment and the needed perseverance, but two years later it’s not only motion without movement, Hosni Mubarak, the man they toppled, is ready to take his plea for forgiveness. That is what happens when disillusionment meets no mass mobilization around ideas and ideals. The glass is half empty; and that may be cause for some enthusiasm, but there is no time to waste. The ruining party is not sitting on its haunches. It is a wounded viper waiting to take its final deadly bite. It may recover from its wounds and make a rebound.
Politrics, if it must serve the people, must revolve round ideas. The opposition must never miss the opportunity to communicate with the electorate at a time of political inertia how it plans to reach the Promised Land. Would schools run and how? Would there be adequate security? What is the blueprint? Would life be safe from hired and ritual killers and political assassins? Would there be jobs, and in which sector? Would there be food and shelter? Shall the falcon turn back and hear the falconer? Would there be peace – what is the plan? Would hope be restored – how? It is not enough to party on someone else’s misfortune if we learn nothing from their errors.
For now, I am making an extra insulation for my deflated balloon of political optimism. Most Naija observers are doing the same – there must be a torch of hope in this dark tunnel of despair. It must shine brighter than the northern star and be seen from far and wide.